


these hands could hold the world

by howisbucky



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, bucky and steve live happily ever after, featuring some goats, infinity war who??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 02:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howisbucky/pseuds/howisbucky
Summary: pencils didn’t fit correctly in steve’s hands.but this would always fit just right.





	these hands could hold the world

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this is my first stevebucky work so i’m very nervous but also very excited for you all to read it. 
> 
> there are mentions of nightmares, but nothing that detailed. i can’t think of any other triggers i need to warn about, but if you find any please don’t hesitate to let me know. 
> 
> this takes place after civil war but before infinity war. in fact, it doesn’t even set uo for iw like it should, because i just ignored that that mess ever happened. 
> 
> enjoy!!!

pencils didn’t fit correctly in steve’s hands. 

the first time he tried to draw after the serum, the lines were choppy, the shading uneven, the whole picture wrong, and he ended up snapping the pencil between his fingers. it had been a sketch of peggy, and when he hadn’t done her justice, he threw the notebook against the wall and didn’t touch it until he woke up seventy years later. 

still, pencils felt too small. he could get a proper grip enough to finish the drawing. bucky’s hair didn’t fall the way it should have, and his jawline was all wrong. he had to pull the pencil from the wall where it had embedded itself when he had thrown it. 

so he tried markers, but he couldn’t find the right technique and it looked like it had been colored by a five year old. charcoal was too breakable. crayons were smaller than his pinky finger. colored pencils were too thin. he gave up drawing again. 

 

-

 

 

“steve?”

steve followed the direction of bucky’s voice and found him sitting on steve’s bedroom floor, staring at a notebook open in his lap. “yeah, buck?”

“what’s this?” bucky asked, looking at him with an unclear expression on his face. he tilted the book so that steve could see what was on its pages, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw what—who—was on them. “is that peggy?”

“yeah,” steve answered in a breath, moving to sit on the carpet next to him and barely managing not to collapse. “that was after the serum. before i got you.”

bucky stared at the drawing silently, tracing the lines with his metal fingers and mouthing words that steve could not hear. “she’s beautiful.”

“she is,” he nodded, laying a hand over bucky’s and feeling relief when the other man did not flinch away. it wasn’t a bad day. “there’s one of you, too. on the next page.”

steve heard a sharp intake of breath as the fingers slowly flipped the page over, and another as the drawing was revealed. “it’s not finished.”

“i couldn’t, um,” steve closed his eyes and swallowed. “i couldn’t finish it. you were dead and it didn’t come out right and—“

“will you finish it?” bucky asked, squeezing his hand gently. “one day?”

“maybe,” steve smiled shakily, “i’ll try. one day.”

bucky’s smile was soft, and steve liked to imagine that it was also fond, as he closed the book and stood on his feet. he placed the notebook and placed it on the nightstand. “i’m sorry. for snooping.”

steve was shaking his head before he finished speaking. “don’t be. nothing to hide from you, buck.”

“doesn’t mean i should look through your things, though,” the other man shrugged. “it won’t happen again.”

steve opened his mouth, wanting to tell him it didn’t matter, that what was his was also bucky’s, that he would give him everything and anything and all bucky had to do was say please. but no words came out and bucky shot him a grin before heading out of the room. “c’mon, punk. it’s your turn to make dinner.”

 

-

 

the house was small, but it was plenty big for them and they had lived in much worse conditions. they wanted something in brooklyn, but that was too visible, and they would have been seen within three days of living there. so t’challa found them a small house in northern new york, with fields surrounding them for miles. large enough for a farm, if they wanted. 

clint and scott returned home, to their kids. sam was back living with his mother, because the falcon was not as recognizable as captain america and the winter soldier. wanda and natasha were given a place not too far from steve and bucky, and the four of them had dinner every wednesday night. it was an adjustment, but they were all making do with what they could. 

shuri had not been able to erase everything hydra had done when they created the winter soldier, but she successfully destroyed the connection between the soldier and bucky barnes. those words would not harm him anymore. with bucky’s approval, she made him a new arm: vibranium, outlined with gold, and rid of the oppressive red star that represented what he no longer was. it was detachable, which was good because some days bucky wanted to scratched at the metal until his fingers bled, and it was nice to have the choice of wearing it or not.

bucky decided that he wanted goats. not an entire farm; just goats like the ones he had looked after before steve arrived in wakanda. their backyard contained a fenced in area that housed six goats. when it was a bad day and steve couldn’t find bucky anywhere in the house, he could look outside and see him sitting in the middle of the enclosure with his arms around one of the kids. 

they were doing okay. 

 

-

 

steve placed the cap on the milk and put it back in its place in the refrigerator with one hand while he stirred his coffee with the other. once it was the color he preferred, he took an experimental sip and nodded in satisfaction. as he turned around, he was faced with an empty and quiet house, which meant only one thing. forgoing shoes or a jacket, steve slid open the glass door that led to the backyard, stepping outside and immediately regretting that decision. regardless, he began walking to the pen in the middle, where six four legged figures were gathered around one taller figure on the ground. 

“you know, if you keep feeding peggy that many treats, she’s going to get sick.”

bucky flashed him a bright smile, the one he always wore on a good day while he visited the goats, and shook his head. “nah. she’s stronger than that.”

steve chuckled as he sat beside him and was greeted with a head to the shoulder. bucky watched with a grin, then reached for the mug in steve’s hands a took a large sip. “besides, i think she hides some of then for later, but shuri steals them when she’s not looking.”

coming up with six names for their new pets was not a challenge. instead, it was narrowing down the long list to only six. they decided against names like nat or t’challa, only because their namesakes would kill steve and bucky where they stood. however, only two goats were actually named after real people, because no matter what sam said, they were not that cheesy. (well, steve wasn’t. bucky never told him that one of the goats he kept in wakanda, a small, sandy haired kid that was always getting into trouble, who happened to be his favorite goat, was named steve.)

“sneaky,” steve commented, rubbing pan’s dark colored fur while tiny continued bumping her head against his side. “alright, alright, i have two hands.”

beside him, bucky was still handing out treats, not-so-sneakily sneaking peggy another when the other three huddled around weren’t looking. “is wanda brining the food tonight?”

“no, it’s our turn,” steve replied, knocking into bucky’s shoulder when tiny gave him an exceptionally strong bump. “sorry.”

“shit,” bucky muttered, “i don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

steve shook his head and waved him off. “i’m ordering pizza. we need to go grocery shopping so nat and wanda can deal with it.”

“oh look at you,” bucky teased, shooting him that smirk. “all tough and brave now, but when nat shows up to something that isn’t homemade, you’ll be shaking in your boots.”

steve rolled his eyes, fighting the smile that was threatening his lips. “it’s not the end of the world.”

“you’re getting careless in your old age,” the brunet said in a mock-serious tone. “lazy, too. i think your muscles are shrinking.” he began poking at steve’s arm, which of course was no smaller than it had been since they first went on the run. “if the world could see you now.”

“you can call me old all you want, you jerk,” steve nudged him with his shoulder, almost pushing him to the ground. “you’re older than i am, so if i’m getting lazy, maybe you should look at yourself. i heard you groan when you sat on the couch the other day.”

bucky rolled his eyes as steve grinned, “laugh it up, rogers. you think you’re funnier than you ever have been. wilson is rubbing off on you.”

“what can i say,” steve shrugged. “sam and i have an eye for good humor.”

“if that’s what you wanna call it,” bucky scoffed, but he was smiling again. 

 

-

 

the shield never felt right in steve’s hands. 

sure, it was vibranium metal, so it was perfectly balanced and vibration absorbent, as howard had promised. it protected him from enemies and served as a great weapon. but it never felt like it should belong to steve, and he didn’t need tony stark to tell him that for him to know it was true. 

when he woke up, he picked up the shield again without question because that was his job. to fight. it seemed like that was all he was good for. but then bucky was alive again and didn’t remember steve or himself, and steve was willing to give up the shield and the entire title of captain america just to keep bucky safe. so he did. and now him and bucky lived in a small house with six goats in their backyard when both of them should have died centuries ago. 

steve has always loved bucky; he knew that much. no matter the place, the war, the year, he loved bucky. so giving up the shield was nothing. it was the easiest thing he had ever done, besides loving bucky. 

 

-

 

both of them still got nightmares every so often. bucky’s would wake steve up, and his eyes would blink open to see a figure standing in his doorway. after he he beckoned him in, bucky would crawl under the covers and they would fall sleep on separate sides of the bed, not touching. steve’s would wake bucky up, but it would still be bucky who came to steve’s bed. 

on bad nights, when neither of them could go back to sleep, they would lie on their backs and stare at the ceiling in silence. rarely would there be words, or even conversations. when bucky falls asleep first, steve will sometimes reach out and gently touch his shoulder, just to make sure he is there. not a dream. 

this night, though, bucky crawls into steve’s bed and steve can tell he is shaking, only slightly, but shaking. they stare at the ceiling for what feels like hours but must be only minutes before bucky speaks. “do you ever regret it?”

steve turns his head to look at him in confusion. “regret what?”

“dropping the shield,” bucky says quietly, not looking at him and not moving a muscle. “leaving the team.”

his words send a jolt through steve. hearing bucky sound so small, so unsure, made him furious at himself for ever allowing it. that emotion alone made him sit up straight and tilt his body towards him. 

“bucky, buck,” steve urged him to look, and finally the man opposite him made eye contact. “you told me on the jet that you didn’t think you were worth all of it. you were. you are. you always have been. even when you looked right through me, you were worth dying for. you have to know that.”

bucky frowned, but steve continued. “that shield felt like it weighed a ton any time i picked it up. dropping it lifted a huge relief off my shoulders. dropping it for you made the most sense in the world. i only ever picked up that shield because it meant you were safe, and i thought it would protect you, too, but it didn’t. i haven’t felt a single ounce of regret since i left it on the ground. you have to know that. i need you to know that. you are worth everything to me, buck, because without you i am nothing.

“i have lost every single good thing that i have ever had in my life. i’ve lost you more times than i wish to count. so i will never,” he said the word passionately, “ever jeopardize this—you, me, us—because not only are you all i have, but you are all i need. all i want.” 

steve exhaled loudly as he finished, watching bucky wearily, afraid that maybe he had just exposed too much. maybe that screamed “i love you” a little too loudly. but finally, bucky’s lips pulled upwards into a soft smile as he shook his head. “even without it, you’re still mr. righteous.”

“yeah well one of us has to have the sense to stay out of trouble,” steve quipped right back, the fear and worry leaving his chest. 

bucky laughed loudly. “no one ever believed me when i said it’s you who got us in trouble. looks like you’re still playing up to the act.”

“who would believe that captain america—“

“hey,” bucky cut him off sharply, reaching out a hand and catching steve’s wrist as he pulled himself into a sitting position. “if we’re getting all sappy tonight, then i gotta make sure you know that you’re not just captain america. you never were. that’s what they made you into, and then it was all they could ever see. you’ve always been good, steve, even before the serum. but you don’t owe anyone anything. not even me.”

steve’s smile felt watery, or maybe that was just his eyes. “bucky, i owe you everything.”

bucky didn’t respond, just shook his head and squeezed his wrist before laying back down. steve copied his actions, sensing that the conversation was over, and lay on his side facing the door. he lay in silence, not bothering to wipe away the few tears that had escaped and rolled down his cheeks, and tried to remain still and pretend he had fallen asleep. 

it wasn’t long after they had both quieted that steve felt the bed move, heard the rustling of sheets, and then felt a weight pressed against his back. an arm was slung across his waist, and steve could see the metal glint even in the dark. 

 

 

the next morning they hadn’t moved from the position they had fallen asleep in. steve woke first, feeling bucky’s hot breath against his neck and their legs tangles together under the sheets. he found that the only thing that had changed throughout the night was their hands: steve’s right arm was bent up rather awkwardly so that his fingers threaded through bucky’s. he took a few moments to hold bucky’s hand tightly while he could, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. once he had felt like he had played pretend for too long, he carefully pried apart their hands and untangled their feet, quietly sitting up and getting out of bed without waking the other man up. 

he went to the kitchen, where he began making breakfast, where he could thinking about bucky and last night with less guilt. it wasn’t long before he had bacon sizzling in a pan while pancakes were stacked on a plate, and the sound of footsteps on the wood floors grew louder. 

“g’morning,” bucky mumbled, jumping up to sit on a counter behind steve while yawning and rubbing his eyes. steve noticed that the metal arm was detached today. “smells good.”

“that’s nice, ‘cause none of it’s for you,” steve teased, picking the bacon off the stove and dumping it onto another plate.

“yeah, yeah, rogers,” steve could practically hear bucky’s eye roll. “act all you want. all i have to do is give you a frown and some puppy eyes and you’ll be shoving your plate in my lap.”

they both knew it was true, so steve didn’t try to deny it. instead, he put the dirty dishes into the sink, nudged bucky on the shoulder, and carried the food to the table. bucky followed him with the two mugs of coffee steve had made right before he woke, and they sat across from each other to dig in. 

when they were halfway through the meal, eating in a comfortable silence, bucky took a sip of coffee and cleared his throat. “y’know, i sleep better with you next to me.”

steve nearly choked on the pancake in his mouth, but managed to swallow without dying. “yeah?”

bucky nodded, watching him carefully. “yeah. i think you sleep better with me there, too.”

“i do,” steve agreed, wondering where he was going with this. 

“makes me wonder what the point of sleeping separately ever night unless one of us starts screaming,” bucky looked nervous as he continued. “right?”

steve looked closely at bucky’s expression, noticing that he looked almost scared at what he was suggesting. “you’re right. maybe if we just slept in one bed anyways, we wouldn’t have nightmares in the first place.”

“exactly,” bucky smiled shakily. “but, like, if that’s not what you want, or sometimes you just wanna be left alone with your own space and—“

“buck,” steve interrupted with a smile, reaching across the table and placing a hand on bucky’s shaking one. “you’re welcome to sleep in my room anytime you want. or if you prefer your bed and want me there, i’ll be there.”

“oh,” bucky sighed with relief. “yeah. okay.”

so they did. 

 

 

steve had thought that was all that was bothering bucky, but when he still walked like the floor was made of eggshells and didn’t always meet steve’s eye, he knew he was wrong. they had started sleeping in steve’s bed every night, on opposite sides like normal, and nothing like the night before. but in the day time, bucky stuck to his own room or in the living room and away from steve. wanda seemed to notice the same the next time her and nat visited, and pointed it out to steve while bucky and natasha argued over something in the living room. 

“does bucky seem a little,” she paused, searching for the word. “terrified to you?”

steve sighed, grateful that he wasn’t just imagining things. “yeah. at first i thought maybe it was a bad day, but he’s been on edge for three days now. i don’t wanna bring it up and scare him off.”

“i don’t think anything you could do would scare him off anymore, steve,” wanda smiled at him knowingly, not even having to read his mind to know his feelings towards his best friend. “maybe you should ask. if he doesn’t want to tell you, he won’t. but it seems serious enough that he’s scared to even look at you.”

nodding, steve continued to dry the dishes as she handed them to him, but the conversation ended there. he knew she was right about bucky, that they had seen each other at their worst and nothing could make either of them walk out now, but even thinking of starting the conversation made steve start shaking. he would definitely ask bucky what was wrong, but he didn’t know if he could every address the. other thing. 

 

once wanda and natasha left, bucky threw away the plastic cups on the table and began to make a run for his bedroom before steve caught his wrist. “hey, can we talk?”

bucky turned around looking pale, but he nodded and followed steve to the living room, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. the blond man frowned. “are you okay?”

this seemed to surprise bucky. “what?”

“are you okay?” steve repeated, trying not to scream i love you, please don’t hate me, please don’t leave me, i love you. “buck, if sleeping in my room every night makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to, you can—“

“that’s not it,” bucky shook his head, “that’s not—“ he cut himself off, looking at his hands that were fiddling on his lap, breathing deeply. “i think something’s wrong with me.”

steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he became even more confused, scooting barely an inch closer to bucky and not daring to move any further. “what do you think is wrong with you?”

bucky seemed reluctant to speak, and as steve began to tell him that he didn’t have to say anything, he spoke quietly. “i think about things that i shouldn’t. i know it’s allowed now, but anytime i think about it i feel ashamed and wrong. which sucks because it’s all i think about.”

this didn’t make anything clearer for steve, so he asked, “think about what, buck? you don’t have to tell me anything, but i want you to know that you’re allowed to think about things.”

“you wouldn’t say that if you knew what it was i think about,” bucky chuckled bitterly and shook his head. “did we ever... feel things back then?”

it took steve a moment to understand. “feel things—oh. well i mean—you didn’t.”

“i did,” bucky disagreed, suddenly meeting steve’s gaze fiercely. “if i know anything steve, it’s that i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you. which has been a hell of a long time.”

steve’s mouth opened and closed several times as his brain seemed to melt. bucky loved him. bucky has loved him for what sounds like ever. he loved him back. “you—what? why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“because it was illegal, steve,” bucky stated it as if it was obvious. “and i never thought you would ever feel the same. and then you had peggy. and then i died. and then you were falling from the sky and my first instinct was to jump after you. and then you’re risking everything for me and then gave it all up. and then my mind is clearer than it has been for decades but one thing that still remains is that i love you.”

steve’s mind felt numb but he mustered enough strength to push himself towards bucky, cup his face in his hands, and kiss him softly. bucky immediately melted in his grasp, lifting one hand to steve’s waist and the other to his neck. their lips moved gently, closed, but lovingly. when steve pulled away to rest his forehead against bucky’s, the two of them wore matching smiles. 

“i love you too, if that wasn’t clear,” steve whispered, “i have for as long as i can remember.”

“good, because i would’ve felt a bit angry if you had kissed me out of pity,” bucky chuckled. 

“never,” and to prove his point, steve kissed him again. 

 

-

 

a week later, bucky was in the backyard when steve joined him with a piece of paper in his hands. the brunet lifted his head in greeting and accepted the kiss as steve sat on the grass beside him. “what’s this?”

steve didn’t have to answer has bucky unfolded it and gasped upon seeing the drawing of himself. it wasn’t a finished version of what he had seen before, but a black and white sketch of what he looks like now, not eighty years ago. his hair was long, his arm was metal, and he was beautiful. 

“steve,” bucky whispered, running his flesh hand along the paper and tracing the lines. “it’s really good.”

“well any punk with a paper and pencil can make you look good,” steve teased, laughing when he received a punch to the shoulder. “i figured the old one doesn’t need to be finished. this is you, now, and that’s all that matters.”

“shut up or you’ll make me cry,” bucky pretended to glare, but the smile on his face was too large for him to act offended. “thank you. i love it.”

“i love you,” steve grinned, kissing him again. he reached his hand out, palm up, and bucky took it in his own, squeezing it tightly as they were joined by the goats bleating in their face. the two of them chuckled as they were ambushed, petting their kids but never letting go of one another. 

 

the shield was never right for his hands and never would be, and pencils still felt too small and thin. he didn’t know if he would ever get used to how large his hands were now. but this—the goats, his life now, bucky, and bucky’s hand in his—would always fit just right.


End file.
